Kimberly White sat awkwardly in the high backed, white leather chair. Her stylist was poking her, taking her measurements and observing every inch of her milky skin.

A book sat in her lap, The Odyssey, but she couldn't get herself to read. Not with her hair being pulled, and the feeling of drowsy eyes. None of the other girls were here yet. Kimberly was lucky, she didn't have to go on the plane as she lived on the outskirts of Angles, close enough that she could take a car to the palace.

"So, what do you want your image to be Miss White?" The brunette stylist asked.

"Um… I don't know really. Elegant maybe." Kimberly said, clearly uncertain.

The stylist, Marrinete, smiled. Maybe Kimberly was perfect for elegant. But, being herself, she knew she wasn't. She was as clumsy as a bull in the china shop and about as graceful as a ballerina with a broken leg. These facts didn't help the fact that she was supposed to be a star runner.

"I have the perfect dress. But first, let's do your hair and makeup!"

She kept quiet, and the small room she was in felt like a cage. She couldn't wait to leave it.

The stylist washed her chocolate-carmel diped hair and made it soft as silk. It was braided and put into a traditional updo. Her nails were painted a nude-pink color and light makeup was applied. When she looked in the mirror, her eyelids looked like gold, and her lips as sweet as a red apple. In her head she thought how attractive she looked.

"I think it's time for your dress!" Marrinete exclaimed, hands clasped in exuberance.

The stylist left for a minute and came back with a white bag. "Close your eyes." She commanded, and Kimberly obliged.

So she stood, half naked whilst a woman she had just meet slipt a supposedly elegant dress and held her hand as she stepped into her simple black heels.

When she opened her eyes, she stumbled backwards.

It was a floor-length gown, with a gold bodice that fell down the white skirt in elegant drops.

Kimberly didn't look like a runner anymore.

She looked like a queen.

Adalcia D'Arcy hung on the back of the line when they were paraded into the Woman's Room where they were supposed to be "remade."

A male stylist was assigned to her as soon as she walked in the door, his name was Pablico and she could barely understand him over his heavy spanish accent.

She just nodded and didn't speak.

"I have the purrrrrfect dress for you my darling." Pablico purred, rolling his r's heavily.

Another nod.

"Let me go find it!" With that he pounced out of the room, his over exaggerated cape fluttering behind him. When he came back, he held a white dress bag. Pablico set it down momentarily and observed her face, patting her cheeks awkwardly.

He applied light makeup on her face, and pulled her hair back into a braid. Adalcia asked him to leave when she got dressed, which he agreed.

The dress he had chosen was yellow, with flower detailing and the largest skirt she had ever seen. It wasn't ugly… but it wasn't Adalcia's style.

But she was trapped.

Not just in the mass of yellow fabric but in the Selection.

Eden Nightingale wince as the fluffy brush pressed against her eye. She was used to being made up, being a model and all. This just felt more serious. Her entire future could depend on the first impression she left on Prince jacen.

Her stylist who had not bothered to share her name, had already put her in her dress. It was gorgeous, with a blue flowered bodice that triangled onto the massive white skirt made of tulle. It made her feel beautiful.

Raven Factor crossed her arms and rolled out of her chair. It was stiff and she wanted to leave. Maybe take a nap.

She hadn't had coffee all day and she felt as if she was about to pass out.

Her stylist went to fetch her dress, but when they came back, Raven knew she was in trouble.

It was pink! Raven had never even touched Pink before.

"Screw it" She mumbled, slipping the dress on.

Camille Sarrow fiddled with the grey lace on her dress. It was tight fighted around her hips, it made her feel like a sausage.

But after all, she just had to be a pretty face.

Calamity Jane Nanda exclaimed, "Oh My!" She almost squealed.

Her dress, oh her dress, was floor length, made of baby blue fabric, with a light encircle around her hips. It was dotted with lovely, pastel pink roses, and the back seemed to be made of pearls. The dress itself had a train about 5 feet long.

She saw what her stylist was going for. Her dress was a wedding dress. It just wasn't white.

Sorry for the bad chapter… BUT, my next story will have open submissions soon. Prologue going up later.